Free Gather Ye Rosebuds by Joan Smith Page B

sketches?”
    “I have half a dozen of them in one of my old sketchpads. I wish I had thought to bring one with me.”
    “You can send to Hernefield and ask the servants to send you one,” Lord Weylin suggested.
    “That would take a few days,” Mama said, pursing her lips. “We had not planned to stay so long, milord. And you are in a hurry to get on to London, too.”
    Lord Weylin was in no hurry to leave. “I cannot like to leave this mystery unsolved,” he said. “It is not just finding the necklace, though that is worth a few days. It is the uncertainty, the niggling feeling that Aunt Maggie was up to something naughty, that intrigues me. Can you not remain a few days? It might mean the recovery of your brother’s money, Mrs. Barron.”
    “Aye, or it might mean finding out he was no better than he should be,” she said uncertainly.
    Lord Weylin took it for a great joke, and after a few flattering remarks that she had been extremely helpful, he sweet-talked Mama into sending to Hernefield for my sketch and remaining to continue looking into the mystery.
    Between the three of us, we demolished two bottles of champagne and enough food to make us uncomfortable. When dinner was finally over, Mama said, “I feel like a Strasbourg goose. If I can make it up those stairs, I shall go straight to bed.”
    “As soon as you have written to Hernefield for the sketch of your brother,” Lord Weylin said, shaking a playful finger at her. “In fact, why waste time with letters? I can hire a mount and have one of my footmen ride there tonight. He can be back before morning.”
    “He would have to ride all night!” Mama exclaimed.
    “It is only fifty miles. On a good mount, he’ll be there in two or three hours. Why do you not write the note now, ma’am, while I arrange for the mount, and give my footman his instructions?”
    Mama looked lost at such a hasty way of carrying on. I confess I was favorably impressed. Weylin had always seemed an idle sort of gentleman, taking life pretty easily, but when he set his mind on something, he threw his whole energy into it.
    “I had best write the letter,” I said. “I know which sketchpad is required, and where it is. Brodagan will not like to be disturbed at such a late hour. I shall hint that the sketch might inconvenience Steptoe. That will ensure her compliance.”
    Mama agreed to this and we parted, Weylin to speak to his footman, I to write the note, and Mama to sit waiting impatiently for Weylin’s call, so that she might undress and go to bed. Shortly after nine he came tapping at the door.
    “There is a band playing on the Pantiles,” he said, pocketing my note. “Would you ladies like to take a stroll and hear it? It is a bit early to turn in.”
    “Very kind, Lord Weylin,” Mama said, “but I could not make it down those stairs again. I am a martyr to the rheumatism.”
    “I am very sorry to hear it, ma’am.” Then his gray eyes turned to me, with a question. “Miss Barron? Are your joints up to tackling the stairs?”
    “I should enjoy a little exercise after that large dinner,” I said, looking to see if Mama objected to being left alone in a strange hotel.
    I think she was glad to be rid of me. “Try not to make a racket when you come in, Zoie. I shall be sleeping.”
    “I shan’t be late,” I promised.
    “Not very late,” Lord Weylin said in an undertone. There was laughter in his eyes as he settled my shawl around my shoulders and offered his arm to lead me out.
    The idea flashed into my mind that Lady Margaret was not the only one of his family who could be naughty when she felt like it. And Uncle Barry might not be unique in that respect in my own family either. There is some charm in being away from home, some slight relaxing of the social constraints. Perhaps it is no more than the knowledge that friends and neighbors are not watching, and so one can cut loose a little. Was that why Barry and Aunt Margaret came here?
     

Chapter